Cry of the Wolf by Dianna Hardy Page B

background check on that guy – I don’t want you anywhere near him alone, got it?”
    Astounded, she agreed. “Funny thing about Hollywood celebs is they never want to hang out with me either, so I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”
    Without warning, she was pinned to his chest, his mouth on hers in a possessive kiss that was nothing like the last one.
    Whoa…
    “I mean it, Lydia,” he said, his voice low. “You’re a storm-wielder who appeared out of the blue, and he’s … a problem that appeared out of the blue at around the same time. I don’t know what’s going on, but I can’t take a chance that it’s coincidence. I’m not putting you in danger and I’m sure as hell not losing you, no matter what else I have to lose in the process.”
    She had no words. The force of his protectiveness stunned her out of all vocabulary. It was so the opposite to how he’d been with her since she’d woken up in his house. She simply nodded her head.
    He calmed down a fraction. “I’ll ask Taylor to be there with you tonight, just to be on the safe side.”
    She held back from telling him she thought he was erring on the dramatic side of protective. What exactly was an actor with such a high profile going to do to her?
    But what the heck – it would be nice to have some Taylor company. She’d missed him this morning. And maybe she could ask Taylor to go pick her truck up tomorrow.
    Lawrence straddled his motorcycle, then held out his hand to her.
    Lawrence, her mate. Bonded.
    Life was weird, wasn’t it?
    With a little smile, she took it and hopped on the back. Her arms nestled around his waist and they headed home.
     
    ~*~
     
    The numbers 17:05 flashed at her mockingly from the DVD machine.
    It’s okay, it doesn’t mean anything.
    Sarah smoothed her slightly sweaty palms against her light summer cardigan. It might be a warm evening, but she didn’t want to take a risk. She swore she had heard a roll of thunder far off in the distance a little earlier and the breeze seemed to have picked up again.
    Not that it mattered because maybe she was about to be stood up.
    Don’t be stupid, girl! Five minutes late means nothing.
    A wave of self-consciousness washed over her. God, it had been so long since she’d been on a date – a proper date…
    Maybe Amil has car trouble like he had three weeks ago.
    The thought of that made her go cold, and she really had to get to grips with herself. Why the hell did she keep getting all panicky whenever she thought about cars breaking down? She’d noticed it over the past few months; even fictional scenarios on the television – on some lame, lifetime drama – of cars failing on their owners would have her shaking. Bloody ridiculous.
    Her Blackberry sang out a shrill note.
    She grabbed it fast out of her handbag, her heart leaping to her throat … oh – email.
    It was from Holly.
    Sarah frowned.
     
    Freaking hell, Sarah, it took me a whole bloody hour ransacking my attic to find your email address. Now will you please tell me what happened to Taylor? And don’t you dare dismiss me like you did earlier. We both know what he meant to you. You guys were like Romeo and Juliet or something. Email me back. I get them on my iPhone, so I can get back to you straight away.
    Holls xxx
     
    “Who the hell is Taylor?” she muttered to the thin air. And what is my email address doing in your attic, my dear best friend? she thought wryly.
    Well, Amil still wasn’t here.
    She hit Reply.
     
    Holly, my email address was in your attic? Why, pray tell? And I have no idea who Taylor is. Do you have the right friend? Do you have the right email address? (Kidding.)
    Speak tomorrow.
    Unless my date stands me up, then I may be bawling down the phone to you in a few hours.
    S xx
     
    She sighed, rose from her sofa to stretch her legs and wondered if she should have another pee before he got here. But that would mean carefully pulling her tights down, then painstakingly pulling them up